


OC-tober Drabbles

by 11_Gadget_27



Series: Mercenary!AU [3]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Other, Some angst, a few nods to turian religious beliefs, a lot of time skips, and then another quick jump to 2193, like these all take place between 2150 and 2187 as far as I know right now, some chapters have blood and vague descriptions of gore, some chapters have death, some chapters have violence, there's some fluff too, with a quick jump to the future of 2215
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:42:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 16,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26753029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/11_Gadget_27/pseuds/11_Gadget_27
Summary: Instead of Inktober this year I'm doing OC-tober. Same format, a different single word prompt each day. My plan currently is to follow my OC Mav and set it in my Mercenary!AU since that's the verse I've got going now. I'll add any additional character or story tags as I need to add them.
Series: Mercenary!AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1932319
Comments: 7
Kudos: 3





	1. Day 1 Prompt: Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to participate in OC-tober, go here: https://oc-growth-and-development.tumblr.com/post/629625117569400832/october-2020-prompts

Palaven, 2158

“We never did this on Carthaan,” The little boy whined, stopping along the path to catch his breath, watching his new sort of brother Saren continue forward. His adoptive dad, Saren’s actual brother, had stopped to look back at him, his mandibles quirked in question. “I said we never did this on Carthaan.”

“It’s not much further, Mavic.” The general said kindly.

“So quit your whining and move.” Saren snarled over his shoulder.

“Saren.”

The other boy lowered his head and kept walking up the path. Desolas waited for Mavic to catch up to him and put an arm around him to guide him along. Mavic flinched away a little, drawing his backpack up high on his shoulders. Desolas was family only in function, even with the adoption finalized, and he made the little boy uncomfortable. Desolas was nothing like his real father...

“You’re doing well. I know the hike is hard when you’re young. It will get easier, Mavic.” 

“The seasons are different on Carthaan,” Mavic mumbled, his head lowered now too. “It’s still cold there right now. Too cold. Mom and Dad wouldn’t ever do the hike if it was too cold. We’d freeze.”

“It’s not too cold here, is it?” Desolas asked him.

The little boy shook his head. “It’s too hot here. Palaven is too hot all the time.” He hated it. Palaven and its heat, its silver and blue trees, its proud cobalt colors. He wanted Carthaan’s snow, he wanted to see other turians with bold orange painted across their faces like his own, he wanted the water that glowed like magic under the moonlight. He wanted to be home with his parents but they’d died in the war with the humans. While Desolas had lived and adopted him in their memory. Mavic hated the humans, he wasn’t sure if he hated Desolas. It hadn’t been his fault but the boy just wanted to go _home_.

“You’ll adapt to the heat. Soon it won’t be too much for you.” Desolas was saying, gesturing him forward past some large rocks.

“I just don’t like it.” Mavic sighed, glancing up at him. 

Saren was up ahead, sitting on another large rock surrounded by more, his mandibles flickering impatiently. It was tradition to meet the first sunrise of the new season and his new family strictly followed traditions. “You almost missed it.”

The sky was lightening and birds were waking, Mavic could hear them in the distance as Desolas picked him up and set him on the rock behind Saren so he could see. They were the same age but Mavic was still so much smaller than his new sort of brother. And he wasn’t biotic, he couldn’t lift himself to high places by force of will alone. And Desolas, well, he was tall and strong and built broadly like a turian general should be, like they always were in movies, Mavic thought. Nothing like dad at all...

The little boy sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve, watching the sun rise over the forest canopy. Blue leaves sparkled as sunlight turned everything silver and shining for a long moment. Carthaan sunrises, he remembered, turned the sky orange like fire. But everything on Palaven was silver and blue. 


	2. Day 2: Mercy

_(From the wiki: To suppress citizen militias, the Turian Hierarchy makes use of "execution squads" known as_ [ _hastatim_ ](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fmasseffect.fandom.com%2Fwiki%2FCerberus_Daily_News_-_June_2010%2306.2F16.2F2010_-_Spaedar_Captured_by_Colonialist_Forces&t=ZjY3YWM4NTQwMjcxYTQ4ZWQ2ZDY2MThhZmYyNTRlNDgyZTEzYTk4Myw5NGE5MmRjYjdlODhmMjI5ZmQ4NGJkZjRiZTZkZTcxOTg2ODhlYTQ5&ts=1601647413) _. First, "safe camps" are established in cities to incentivize surrender. Next, hastatim soldiers are deployed door-to-door; anyone who refuses to be transported to a safe camp or demonstrates hostile intent will be shot. Hastatim burial units then retrieve and cremate the bodies. This approach is necessary because without the safe camps, no turian would ever surrender, and without the hastatim, it would take years for a population to be pacified.) Mavic, 20 at the time, was not Hastatim for long._

The year of Hastatim: Diluvian Wildlands, Taetrus: 2170

“Hey there lil’ thing,” Mav cooed lowly, holding a small berry he’d picked from a bush between his fingers. “C’mon now. You wanna lil’ snack?”

The little creature- something native to the planet he’d never seen before- all spindly and plated with long limbs and big eyes blinked up at him from just beside the bush. It was covered with soot and grime from the fires, the smoke. Mav was too. Even with his armor on, the smoke got in there, the smell. Spirits, the _smell_... 

He wiggled the berry around between his fingers until he held it between two talons. “C’mon lil’ thing, you’ve gotta be hungry, yeah? Thirsty? Sorry we had to poison the supply but...” It wasn’t like the creature could understand and Mav had no way of knowing if it was wild or domesticated. Spirits, he hoped it wasn’t somebody’s pet but then, it didn’t seem all that afraid of him, just understandably cautious. His stomach threatened to crawl up his throat at the thought of it belonging to some kid.

His unit was gathering the last of the bodies to burn, to release the Spirits back to wherever it was the Spirits actually went. Common belief was Palaven but Mav wasn’t so sure a Taetran turian Spirit would appreciate that. Hadn’t that been the point of the skirmishes? The resistance? Separation to the fullest, an independent colony? Why then would the Spirit want to join Palaven when the point was to break away? These weren’t thoughts he shared with his unit-mates or his commanders. Mav was a lot of things but foolish wasn’t one of them.

It was why he was crouched in the dirt with a sticky berry between his talons and trying to coax a strange, wide-eyed creature from a bush rather than lighting another pyre. He’d probably get written up for this and wouldn’t that please Desolas? Another strongly worded demerit in his dossier. Mav snorted to himself and clicked his tongue at the creature. Still nothing more in response than that cautious stare. Yeah, he wasn’t getting anywhere with the thing and he could hear quick, purposeful steps behind him. Mav dug a little divot in the dirt and emptied part of his canteen into it, dropping the berry into the pool of water.

“Hope that helps, lil’ thing.” He muttered, standing and wiping his hands off on his pants before putting his helmet back on to the look he got from his approaching commander. He was definitely going to be written up but that little berry and tiny drinking pond were going to do more good than all the fires they were setting.


	3. Day 3: Youth

Cipritine, Palaven: 2159

Saren wasn’t having near as much fun as he was. Which seemed weird, Mavic knew if _he_ were biotic and just able to lift himself with his mind like that, he’d be having way more fun. But Saren took everything so seriously, treated everything like another one of his exercises or lessons. Mavic just wanted to play. That was the point of the daily recesses in the park by their house, to play and have fun. 

He grabbed the branch of the tree and struggled to pull himself up, swinging about a little until he managed to hook his foot and then he wiggled some more to get his leg fully over the branch. After that, it was easy to climb up the rest of the way. He grinned at his sort of brother.

“Took you long enough.” Saren flicked his mandibles teasingly.

“Not everyone can do magic.” Mavic shot back, his grin faltering just a little bit. 

“It’s not magic,” His brother huffed. “It’s science and doctors and surgeries…” 

He fell quiet. Mavic picked at a twig sticking up between them. “ ‘m sorry ‘bout the surgeries.” He muttered. “I know it’s scary. I’d be scared too. Like even if it’s not happenin’ to me, it’s scary. Like when momma cut her hand really bad this one time and she had to have it stitched back together, that was scary and it wasn’t even me that got hurt.” 

“I’m not scared.” Saren picked at a twig too, this one held between his fingers.

“Okay.” He took his sort of brother at his word, if he said he wasn’t scared, he wasn’t. “I’ll be scared for you. I am scared when you go to the doctors, y’know? Cuz, I dunno, doctors scare me, I reckon. And cuz… cuz you’re my brother now.”

The other boy snorted. “Technically, I’m your uncle.”

Mavic laughed at him. “I’m not callin’ you uncle. And Desolas said we’re brothers now so there.”

“It’s not like I want to call you nephew either.” Saren told him and when Mavic laughed this time, he did too, just a little.

Mavic let his hanging feet swing back and forth, looking up higher into the tree. He and Saren both were too short to reach the next branch. He tilted his head. “Hey so… You think you could maybe use your magic to get me to the next branch? Then I can pull you up and I bet we could see all the way to the Temple.”

Saren looked up to the next branch, his fringe so long already that it touched the top of his cowl. Mavic couldn’t wait for his fringe to grow that long. “I think that I can.” He swung one leg over the branch and faced him. “But stand up and reach for it anyway.”

“Okay!” Mavic grinned and got to his feet, being careful about it, balancing with one hand reaching above his head. “Ready! Do it!” 

Saren had scooted back all the way the against the body of the tree so that he didn’t fall. Mavic knew it would take him a moment to build up focus or whatever it was he did to make the biotics happen, and he tried not to fidget, standing as still as he could and still reaching over his head. It took a few minutes but then he smelled that distinct eezo smell as his brother pulled the power forward, felt a shift of air around his ankles. And then he felt his feet leave the branch, his fingers almost touching the one above their heads.

Suddenly the ground rushed up to meet him and Mavic rolled head over heels in the dirt a few times before he came to a stop. Face down and struggling to get up, he sobbed in pain. 

“Mavic!” Saren was there and pushed at him to make him roll over. “Are you okay?”

“You threw me!” He sobbed, rolling away from his sort of brother, holding his face. It felt like his mandible had been torn off when he hit the ground but he didn’t feel any blood.

Pale mandibles fluttered wildly. “I didn’t mean to throw you. I’m… I’m sorry. Let me see if you’re hurt.”

“No, you threw me, Saren!” Mavic pulled back from him, getting to his feet. Spirits, his arm hurt so bad too and it just like… hung all wiggly. “I’m tellin’ Desolas.”

“I’ll tell Desolas I threw you, but it was still an accident!” Saren hissed, grabbing at him. “Let me see how hurt you are!”

The smaller boy relented after a moment of batting his hands away, the last thing he wanted to be yelled at too, he was already crying. He hated being yelled at. And he was hurt and probably a lot. Saren looked him over and hissed again. “What?”

“…I think your mandible is broken.” His fluttered wildly and he looked around them for an adult but no one further in the park had seen Mavic fall. “Let’s find Desolas. You need a doctor.”

Mavic nodded his head, more hurt than angry. Saren wouldn’t ever throw him on purpose, he knew that. And now he knew why you didn’t play with biotics. 


	4. Day 4: Ambush: Or Massacre at the Brothel part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this takes place during my fic Enemies and Allies, which you don’t have to read to get what’s going on, and it’s from Mav’s POV instead of his partner’s. It’s also a two part that I’ll finish in the Revenge prompt later this month. Warnings for blood, violence and a lot of implied bad things, and that I feel I really suck at writing fight scenes.

The Terminus, recent past: 2187

The lights were on but they weren’t expecting him. Or rather, they weren’t expecting someone like him. Mav kicked in the brothel’s door and the mercenary standing guard had no time to defend himself. Blood sprayed his face as Mav tore his throat out with his talons but he hardly noticed. His attention caught by screams and cries of pain and laughter further into the building. For a moment his vision blurred as anger and indignation swelled. This was supposed to be a safe zone, one of few truly neutral places in the Terminus. He had friends here...

The second merc at least managed to pull a gun before Mav charged at him, one of his many knives sinking deep in an unarmored belly, twisting, drawing upward. He left the body slumped there, stepping over still twitching legs and spilled viscera, snarling under his breath. The noise got louder and louder the closer he got to the end of the long hallway and now Mav could make out words. Taunts and pleas for mercy... He was going to kill every mercenary here, he decided in an instant. He would kill them by hand and he wouldn’t even drawl his gun. And if Ailuros was hurt, if he was one of the screaming voices, Mav was going to burn the building down.

A handful of the bastards met him toward the end of the hallway, guns drawn and aimed. He saw more than one hand shaking as he grinned at them, his face covered with red and blue blood already, Mav could just imagine what he looked like. These were just Terminus mercs, hodgepodge armor and weapons and little to no training to speak of. He was Blackwatch. They didn’t stand a chance.

Mav made a come-at-me gesture and all hell broke loose. His kinetic shield barrier had bullets ricocheting in every direction as he moved toward them, a knife in each hand. He felt searing heat along his side and chest and knew he’d taken some injuries of his own but in the end, he was the last one standing. 

He wiped his knives off, heart and head pounding. He could hear more men approaching and his barrier needed a little time to recharge. Mav planted himself against a wall, took the short moment to catch his breath and continued to the side of the double doors at the end of the hallway, the the little area where patrons hung their coats, it would give him the cover he needed while he thought about how to-

“Baast,” He breathed, spotting the drell leaned up against the wall, a gun in his hand. “Baast, Spirits-” As Mav knelt, he saw that his sometimes friend and lover was already dead. But he’d known that, the night before when he’d received the distress call, Baast had died trying to tell him the situation. He’d already known, why did seeing him like this _hurt_ so much?

“They just left you here...” His voice was choked and he reached to touch him, mandibles quaking as fury and sorrow threatened to take him over. Fury won. The Blackwatch called him Mayhem, and here, he would show every Terminus mercenary why he had earned the name. 


	5. Day 5: Beloved

Terminus, recent past: 2187

“You comin’ or what?” Mav drawled, leaning against the door frame with a hand on his hip and his mandibles slanted. 

Ailuros- still wiggling back into his clothes- gave him a look over his shoulder. “This is like... really against the rules, Mavi.”

“So? A lil’ rule breakin’ is good for the Spirit.” He flashed his teeth as his mandibles spread a little further in a grin. “And a real meal will be good for you.”

The boy pulled on a sweater. “Where are you taking me that’s got real food?”

“Er, well, that part’s a surprise. Once we get outta here, I’ma blindfold you.”

Ailuros gave him a coy little smile. “I liked the last time you blindfolded me.”

Mav’s mandibles fluttered and color raced up his throat. The blindfold this time was more for practicality than for play. He couldn’t exactly have the boy knowing what his ship looked like, but he definitely liked where Ailuros’ mind was at. “Yeah? Stow _that_ thought for now, we’ll come back to it later.” He held his hand out for the boy to take.

...

They sneaked out of the brothel together, Mav making sure none of the bouncers saw him take the boy out a delivery door. Then, pulling him into an alcove, he secured the blindfold over Ailuros’ eyes and took his hand again, promising that it wasn’t far and he wouldn’t let the boy walk into anything. He already had everything ready back at his ship, and he guided the boy inside and to the meager little kitchen, helping him to sit at one of the table’s chairs.

“So you can take that off if you wanna,” He said, giving a little tug to the blindfold before heading to the stove to cook. “This won’t take me long.”

Ailuros took the blindfold off and looked around. “Mavi?” He trilled confusion.

Mav looked over his shoulder as he got the fish and veggies in the steaming basket all set and ready to go. “Er, right. So... this is my ship.” And also partially stupid to bring the boy here but Spirits. “And... I’m cookin’ for you. Just a treat, y’know? Thought you could do without junk food and the hangover remedies at the brothel for once, yeah?”

By the look on Ailuros’ face, something that danced between shock and worry and incredulous-ness, Mav was starting to think maybe this wasn’t a good idea. And not just because it was coming awfully close to blowing his cover. He tapped his talons on the stove, a quick, nervous beat. Fuck, Ailuros wasn’t saying anything. Had he crossed a line?

“You can cook?” The boy finally asked. “Like actually cook? Not the just add water crap but like... really cook?”

Mav blinked a few times. “Er... yeah. O’course.” He gestured behind him. “I got some Parthian fish for finishin’ a job the other day, some real nice veggies too. Reckon the client thought I was too skinny or somethin’, paid me half in food and half in credits. I wasn’t gonna complain, y’know?”

Ailuros trilled again. “It’s _real_ fish? Not vat grown?”

“Yeah, it’s real. Was swimmin’ not all that long ago.” He flicked his mandibles in a grin.

Another trill and Mav almost fell back against the stove as Ailuros flew at him and wrapped his arms tight around his neck. Then he was getting kisses all over his fringe and face and a soft nuzzle too.

“So good surprise, yeah?” He chuckled warmly, grinning at Ailuros and just holding him in his arms, pretty easy when they were both on the small side for turians. 

The boy smiled, his violet eyes so bright. “ _Best_ surprise, Mavi. Really.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read "Enemies and Allies" and then "Totem" then you know why this one hurts so much.


	6. Day 6: Luxury

Cipritine, Palaven: 2166

A shower, a hot meal, some sleep in his own bed for once in the last year and maybe not even in that order... That was all Mavic wanted and all he’d been able to think about during the graduation ceremony. He’d zoned in and out for the few hours it had taken to the point that Desolas had had to shake him when it was his turn. Spirits, that had been embarrassing. At least he was home now and able to strip out of the too stiff bootcamp uniform. His new one, for the Engineer Corps, hung off the back of his door. Mavic hadn’t had the chance to try it on yet but it certainly looked like it would fit better and it might even be comfortable. That would be a nice change.

Saren was heading to the Cabals in the morning and it might be years before they saw each other again. Mavic tried not to let it get to him, he wasn’t exactly _close_ to his brother like some siblings were but they’d spent every day together since they were seven. Mavic would miss his company even if they rarely got along well anymore. Saren was serious and traditional and Mavic was... not that to the same extent. Spirits, he’d almost fallen asleep during his own graduation that he wouldn’t have even gone to if Desolas hadn’t made him. 

Mavic ran hands over his fringe and waited for the shower to heat up. Finally it did and the hot water over some stupidly sore places felt _so good_. Before long, Mavic was purring as he soaked up the heat and cleaned himself. After his shower, he pulled on some comfy sweat pants and a too big shirt and crawled down into his bed. He’d eat with Saren and Desolas later. Right now, he just wanted to sleep. He rolled himself up in his too many blankets and nuzzled down into his pillow. 


	7. Day 7: Cliff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Velox does not belong to me, he belongs to turianspeedjunkie over on tumblr

Terminus, Dius’ ship, recent past: 2187

Mav leaned his head in one hand, mandibles slanted as Velox talked on and on and on about his adventures before he became Dius’ pilot. Long before, if Mav had to guess from the note of nostalgia in his tones, a note of longing. Spirits, the yellow painted boy didn’t belong here in the Terminus, he belonged back on some planet where he could climb cliffs and base jump and race to his heart’s content. Not effectively locked in the cockpit of a Terminus pirate. Dius was decent as far as pirates went, but Mav couldn’t say the same for the rest of his crew...

The boy was blushing again, his mandibles fluttering a little wildly and a nervous sort of laugh left him.

“Nah, nah, keep ramblin’ boy, I’m listenin’.” Mav grinned at him and put his free arm across his waist again and didn’t that just make Velox blush even darker. 

Mav gave him a little poke and got him talking again, eyes half lidded with his smile. It was really endearing to hear Velox speak, to watch how he lit up, how he got just a little louder as he got more excited to share his story. As he described high cliffs and sandy dunes with such detail and emotion, that Mav could only guess he was talking about his homeworld. The small agent smiled somewhat warmly and pressed him for more and more detail just to see the light in Velox’s pretty yellow eyes. 


	8. Day 8: Festival

Virim Farmstead, Carthaan: 2152

“C’mere you lil’ pyjack!” Orrick laughed, caught his son in the towel and scooped him up before the soaking wet toddler managed to escape from the bathroom. Again. Mavic was a wild one, not that he’d had much experience with children before his own but Spirits, he’d certainly never been this energetic. Orrick rubbed the towel all over him before carrying him into his room. “You remember what your momma wanted you to wear to the festival?”

Mavic trilled and raced away when put down on his feet, and Orrick, ready to chase and catch him again, was surprised to see his boy head over to the pile of clothes stacked on his bed. “Momma want!”

“Yes, I reckon she does.” He smiled and then helped his boy dress, adding a sweater over his clothes just in case the night was cooler than they’d expected. “Alright then Mavi boy, go find your shoes and get them on, but you stay in the house and wait for me and your momma this time.”

“Shoes and wait.” Mavic nodded his little head smartly and then raced off again.

Orrick gathered the towel and other bits of laundry from the floor and tossed them in the basket by the door. They needed to work on real sentences with Mavic and stop letting him get away with just a few words here and there but at least he followed directions well. Even going at full speed. Spirits, maybe he and Desya should have talked about having him when they were a little younger, he almost couldn’t keep up with the little whirlwind. 

...

“Do you want me to carry him?” Orrick teased his mate as Mavic squirmed and wiggled in Desya’s arms. She had a good grip on him but Orrick knew how utterly exhausting it was trying to wrangle their little monster when he got it in his head to run. Still, he smiled, holding his arms out while she gave him something of an exasperated look.

“I’m startin’ to think we ought to get him one of those leashes.” She teased back, shifting their toddler a little higher on her hip. If he did manage to wiggle free, she knew they’d never catch him again in this crowd.

Orrick laughed. “He’d run ‘bout us and have us tied up together in no time.”

“Oh, but would that be so bad?” Desya winked at him.

“Nah,” He blushed and laughed again, swinging an arm about the both of them as they waited in line. Carthaan’s harvest festival was in full swing. Hell, it looked like half the town was here with the other half waiting to get into the local park. He smelled all kinds of delicious food and could see Mavic sniffing the air too. Well, that must be why he’d gone all wild once they’d gotten out of the car. Little thing was hungry again. Orrick smiled.

“I know that look.” Desya snorted beside him.

“What?”

“You are not pumpin’ him full of sugar and settin’ him loose on the other kids again.” She said firmly but he could see her grinning too.

“And why not? Look, they’ve gotta animal pen set up for ‘em.” He pointed ahead of them. “I don’t think Mavi can climb out of it. And just think how good he’ll sleep tonight.”

Oh, he could see her thinking about _that_ , the quirk to her mandibles that told him just how interested she was in a night where Mavic didn’t crawl into their bed for snuggles. He nudged her a few times, wagging his mandibles suggestively until he had her laughing.

“He has to eat somethin’ other than just sugar.” Desya said in her drill sergeant voice and Orrick saluted smartly. 

“Yes ma’am!” He took their wiggling toddler from her arms and parked him across his shoulders. “Whatcha think, Mavi boy? Sit up tall. You see somethin’ you wanna eat?”

Mavic patted his little hands on Orrick’s fringe. “Fish! Fish!” He chirped and was immediately trying to climb down.

“Whoa now!” He took a grip of the toddler’s feet to keep him from falling. “Park your lil’ butt and I’ll take us for some fish.”

“I’ll catch up. I see some folks I want to talk to.” Desya kissed his cheek and Mavic leaned down for a fringe kiss. “Behave for you father, please.”

“Yeah, momma.” The little boy chirped and wrapped his hands around Orrick’s fringe again, holding on without all his wiggling this time.

Orrick got them both a fried fish on a skewer from one of the food stalls and then sat down with Mavic at a picnic table. He watched the toddler tear into the fish with a happy trill and then nibble on the stick too to get all the little bits off. “That’s good stuff, huh, Mavi?”

“Good stuff.” The toddler nodded, smiling with his mandibles wide.

He tapped his talons on the table between them. “I know some better stuff,” He shared in a playful whisper. “But we can’t tell your momma ‘bout it, yeah?”

Mavic tilted his head and flared his mandibles. “Secret?”

“Sorta.” Orrick chuckled. “C’mon and I’ll show you.”

The toddler reached his hands high for pick-ups and Orrick put him across his shoulders again as he went in search of other food stalls. He pointed things out to Mavic on the way. Games to play and people they knew from town, a scattering of extended family here and there but everyone showed up for the festival. Finally, he found the stall he was looking for, the sweet smell making his mouth water and he felt Mavic sit up high on his shoulders.

“Treat?”

“Yeah, Mavi boy, treat time. For you and for me.” Orrick laughed warmly, patting his hanging feet with one hand and holding onto him with the other. The wait wasn’t long and soon he carried Mavic back to the picnic table with their treats in hand. The toddler stared with big eyes and flared mandibles, looking back and forth between him and his treat. “Go on now.”

Mavic’s trill was high pitched and if Orrick thought he’d torn into the fish with gusto, it was nothing compared to how he ripped into the sticky mass of candied fruit. Spirits, he’d have to clean the toddler’s hands before he set him loose in that animal pen with the other small children. Thankfully he’d learned to always carry some wet-wipes with him, especially if he was taking Mavic anywhere.

Soon, they were both done with the treat and Orrick carefully cleaned Mavic’s hands for him, making sure not to leave any sticky behind. “Alright, I’m gonna park you in that pen now to play. Sound good?”

“Games?” The toddler blinked up at him, pointing away from the pen and into the crowd. 

“We’ll do some games with your momma in a lil’ bit.” Orrick told him. “Right now you need to run some energy off.”

“Run!” He watched those big orange eyes lit up and he only _just_ managed to snatch the toddler before he darted off.

“In the pen, Spirits, you can run in the pen with the other kids.” Orrick laughed, hauling his boy close and carrying him toward the pen just stocked full of other wild children with a few parents standing by to make sure nothing got out of hand. He leaned over the high fence and put Mavic down on his feet. The toddler was off like a shot and found a few other kids to play chase with in no time. Orrick leaned on the fence, smiling. He wouldn’t trade this for anything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve written Mavic’s parents a few times, but only in other AU’s I’ve had going. And I’ve definitely written Orrick more than I’ve written Desya. I see them as really truly loving each other, devoted to each other and their little family. Orrick’s more goofy, Desya’s more serious, but they match each other perfectly. When I do write them, usually from Mav’s point of view, he’s been known to say they were meant to be. It was really nice to get to show them for just a little bit.


	9. Day 9: Mentor

Cipritine, Palaven: 2160

“Breathe, Mavic.” Desolas told him for the hundredth time.

“I am breathin’.” He said out the side of his mouth, sighting down the scope of the rifle he was being taught to use. And honestly struggling to learn. Spirits, he was so frustrated with this! Every time he thought he had lined it up right and then pulled the trigger, he missed! Every single time he missed the center ring and now he wasn’t even hitting center mass at all. 

Mavic lowered the rifle and took his fingers well away from the trigger, glancing up at Desolas over his shoulder. He looked annoyed, his sharply angled mandibles pulled in tight against his jaw, he was almost scowling. Mavic dunked his head and felt his shoulders rise. This was just another thing about him that disappointed his adoptive father. What turian couldn’t shoot a gun?

“Can... may I take a break?” He mumbled, dreading what Desolas would say, yes or no. 

The General heaved a sigh and Mavic shrunk in on himself even further. “Disassemble and reassemble the rifle.” He said. “That will be your break.”

“Yes, sir.” Usually, he called Desolas _dad_ , as awkward as that was, but not right now. Mavic didn’t want to remind him just how completely different from Saren he was, that he wasn’t blood family, that he wasn’t good at anything Saren was amazing at. He wondered too much as it was if Desolas regretted adopting him.

Mavic took the rifle to one of the workbenches set up along the range and began to take the it apart slowly. He didn’t need to, he could do the whole process with his eyes closed and under a minute perfectly if he wanted to. But since this was his break, he wanted to take his time. Desolas stood next to him watching and when he was done, gestured him back to the shooting position. Mavic put the stock against his shoulder and sighted down the barrel again. Fired. Missed. He lowered the rifle, his mandibles beginning to quake as frustration swelled.

“Is the rifle too heavy for you?” Desolas asked.

“Nah, sir.” He mumbled.

“The action too loud?”

“Nah, sir.”

“Can you see down the range without the scope?”

Mavic turned his head. “Yes, sir. I can see fine.”

“You _are_ holding your breath when you fire.” Desolas told him and Mavic’s mandibles fell loose.

“I don’t mean to. I know I shouldn’t. I try to breathe like you say to and I just...” He made a sound in the back of his throat and rubbed furiously at his eyes with one hand. Spirits, he didn’t want to cry.

Desolas put his hands on his shoulders and drew him in. “It’s alright, Mavic. We’ll continue to work on this, but as of this moment, I don’t think the rifle is for you.”

“Nah?” He sniffed, still trying his hardest not to cry as he let Desolas hug him.

“You can’t possibly be good with every weapon.” His mandibles quirked.

“You are. Saren is.” Mavic told him, pulling away. “Everyone is but me.”

“No, everyone is not better than you. Saren has had longer to practice and I’ve had years to turn practice into mastery.” Desolas took the rifle from his hand and clicked on the safety. “Your skills are elsewhere.”

Mavic had no idea what he was talking about, he honestly sucked at everything he tried. “What? Nah, they’re not.”

“I’ve seen your preliminary scores, Mavic.” Desolas told him. “Theoretical and practical. I wouldn’t call you a genius by any means, but you’re more intelligent than most of your peers at the same level.”

“I... I like school.” He said, his mandibles fluttering. He still didn’t know what Desolas was talking about. He really wasn’t anything special. Just a kid from Carthaan with an accent too thick for most his instructors to understand and a habit of starting unneeded fights.

“I know that you do.” Desolas quirked his mandibles again.

“I can’t shoot to save my life though and I know that’s a problem.”

“You know your weapons inside and out. You’re familiar with every nuance of this rifle, aren’t you? Or my own sidearm.”

Mavic tilted his head, still just as confused. They’d been working with the rifle for a few hours already but... “O’course I am.” He said at length. “I’ve gotta know how stuffs works cuz...cuz I just do.”

“And that’s your skill, Mavic.” Desolas gave him a rare smile. “We’ll focus on engineering for now. Along with close quarter combat.”

Mavic’s mandibles jerked in. “He was sayin’ crap ‘bout Saren. I had to-”

“You didn’t have to.” Desolas told him sternly and then heaved another of those sighs. “However, you handled yourself well even if you didn’t fight fair. We’ll focus on engineering and combat. Shooting can come later. You’ll master it too, given enough time.”


	10. Day 10: Silence

The Edge of Hierarchy Controlled Space: 2177

Mav had roughly twenty minutes left before his air ran out and a total of forty-five minutes before the rescue crew would reach him. He would have had longer if he hadn’t panicked the very moment he’d noticed his tether was cut. If he’d had the sense to notify the Alliance folks he was helping out _before_ he’d panicked well...

“Fuck.” He hissed again. And shit, he should be conserving what air he could. But why? He was going to suffocate before they got to him. What a way to go. Drifting in space, further and further from the hull of an Alliance ship with a human voice in his ear telling him it would be okay, they’d get to him in time. Mav knew they wouldn’t. Oh, they’d recover his body just fine but his Spirit would be long gone by then. 

“FUCK!” He screamed it this time, the sound breaking off into a keen of despair inside his helmet.

This wasn’t the way he’d figured he’d die. Hell, he’d been with the Blackwatch just shy of two years now, officially anyway. Mav had figured he’d die when an op went wrong, when he was outnumbered and short on ammo, or when an enemy was just better than he was. Not like this. He’d just stopped along the way home for a distress beacon. The Alliance cruiser dead in the water -so to speak- after a component on the hull got taken out by a debris field. The human engineer onboard too sick to do the repair himself. They were happy to wait for their own people to help but Mav had seen the damage as he’d drawn his own ship alongside and it wasn’t anything he couldn’t fix himself. He hadn’t given thought to the remaining debris.

Stupid. He was so fucking stupid.

“Agent Virim, your oxygen levels are depleting rapidly.” The human voice in his ear warned him, a veiled statement to tell him to calm the fuck down.

“I’m real aware of that, thanks.” Mav shot back.

“The rescue crew is enroute. They’ll reach you soon.”

“Uhuh, sure.” His body, they’d reach his body soon. Mav wanted to scream again. “Look, I’ve gotta... I’ve gotta call my dad, yeah? I’ma cut you off for a bit.”

“...I understand.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m thinkin’ you do.” Mav hummed, not that great with the nuances of human voices, but he’d heard something there... He muted that connection to open another one. 

Desolas’ line rang and rang and rang. Mav felt like crying along with screaming now. “Fuck,” He said when the voicemail ticked on. “Er... sorry. Listen... I’m comin’ home. Er, soon. Just...Fuck. I’m comin’ home but I’m not, yeah? My... You and Saren will need to carve my totem. I’m... I’m so fuckin’ sorry, dad. I messed up. I messed up and I’m gonna run out of air and... Fuck. I just... You can burn me on Palaven but please, _please_ take my ashes to Carthaan so I can be with my family. And I know, I know, you and Saren are my family and... and I love you both, yeah? But... but my ashes... fuck... my ashes should go to Carthaan and I know I can trust you to do that. I don’t... I don’t have ‘nough time to call Saren, so you can you tell him I love him too? And that I’m sorry for bein’ such a shithead to him all the time? I’d really ‘preciate that.” Mav breathed deep to get his emotions under control. Fuck, that was getting real hard to do. “There’s just so much I want to say and I know I’m gettin’ a chance most folks don’t get and I can’t fuckin’ think of anythin’. I reckon... I reckon I should say thank you for takin’ me in when my parents died. I dunno if I ever have. You didn’t have to do that and you did it anyway and I’m sure... I can’t remember them all that well anymore, but I’m sure they’d be grateful, too. I reckon... I reckon I’ll get to ask them soon, yeah? I have to... I have to go. I don’t want you to hear me... I have to go. I love you, dad.” 

Mav hung up, took a moment to get himself under control again, and patched back into the Alliance cruiser. “Hey so, how long’ve I got?”

“A little over five minutes until breathing becomes an issue, Agent Virim.” The human voice told him. “The rescue crew will be there in... in roughly thirty minutes. I’m sorry. They were delayed.”

“O’course.” He snorted. Turians and humans, even so long after the war, still weren’t on the best of terms.

“Do turians pray?” The voice asked.

Mav blinked, again he’d heard something in the undercurrent of that voice he couldn’t really identify. “Some do.” He answered. “I... I don’t. I don’t remember the words anymore. Do humans?”

“I don’t remember our words anymore either.” That voice told him. “If I did, I would for you.”

“You don’t know me though.” Mav said, a little taken aback. Breathing was becoming difficult and he was getting cold. 

“I don’t think that matters if I know you personally or not. I know you tried to help us in our hour of need and now we’re failing to help you.”

Mav cleared his throat. “Hey, not anybody’s fault but mine what’s happenin’.” He’d always been on the careless side and now it was really coming back to bite him. “You got any music you can play me?”

“Music?” The voice asked. “Uh, yeah. What do you like?”

“Just play me somethin’ soft, without words if you’ve got it.” Mav answered and in just a few moments the he could hear ethereal instruments through his ear piece. Something that rose and fell, that soothed and spoke to his Spirit. He breathed a little easier and let in consume him until he couldn’t breathe at all.

Mav had always thought, when he finally met his end, that he’d see his parents again. That they would be the Spirits that guided him to whatever afterlife there was. He’d heard stories about it before. And as the stars got brighter around him and he got colder even in that cocoon of music, Mav waited to see them. When everything turned gray at the edges and then black, he waited to see them. Just another minute more he told himself, almost excited for that moment.But when light flooded his vision again, it wasn’t the faces of his parents he only just remembered that greeted him, but a human face. The fuzz along his jaw specked with black and gray, the smile full of flat teeth wide.

“I remembered our words, Agent Virim.” The human said, the same voice that had been in his ear. “I’m glad they reached you.”

He was too weak to speak and too surprised. Mav gave the human his hand and felt five strong fingers lock around his three. 


	11. Day 11: Craft

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my own personal headcanon regarding turian death rituals. I can’t remember what inspired the idea originally but as the years have gone on, I’ve given it more and more thought. And though I've referenced it a lot, I don't know if I've explained it. Turians are cremated on a pyre after death and their remaining family carves a wooden totem that closely resembles them. Some turians choose to keep the totems as a tool for remembrance while others choose to burn the totem too as a way to let go. Fair warning, this one is gonna hurt.

Cipritine, Palaven: 2157

“What are we doin’?” Mavic asked, holding onto his sleeve as he shuffled alongside the General.

“You and I have something important we must do.” Desolas said quietly, glancing down at him for a moment and Mavic thought he saw the glisten of tears. It was never good when the grownups cried and he fell silent just trying to keep up.

On the back porch of the house, Desolas directed him to sit on a cushion and brought over an intricately carved wooden box, sitting across from him with a soft sigh. “Do you know what this is?”

Mavic tilted his head. “I’ve seen one before.” He said. “At home but... but it had orange.” He pointed first to the markings on his face and then to Desolas’. “Not blue.”

“Your box had Carthaan markings. Mine has Palavenian.”

He nodded, that made sense. “So what’s it?” 

Desolas shifted the box in his hands a few times, running his fingers over the carvings on its surface. “Mavic... do you know what a totem is?”

His mandibles fell loose along his jaw and his eyes were suddenly very wet. He knew what they were doing now and he didn’t want to. “It’s... it’s a...” He couldn’t say it, if he said it, then they were really gone.

The General’s mandibles shifted along his jaw before resting loosely too. “I believe it’s time we craft your parents totems.” He said gently.

Mavic shook his head, sobbing before he could stop himself. “I don’t wanna. Please, Desolas, I don’t wanna. If... If I do then... then...”

“They’re already with the Spirits, Mavic.” Desolas told him with carefully prodding tones. “Carving the totems will help you say goodbye.”

“I don’t wanna say goodbye!” He screamed and hid his face down on his knees as he curled up into a tight ball, sobbing loudly now. He felt Desolas gather him up and pull him close and him tight as he tried to get loose until he was too exhausted and crying too hard to try anymore. “I don’t wanna say goodbye.”

“I know.” Desolas said and his voice cracked just a little at the edges. “I know that you don’t, Mavic. I wish it was something you didn’t have to do.”

“Why do I have to?”

“This is how we honor our dead.” The General said, shifting him in his lap and picking up the box again. “This is how we say goodbye to those we didn’t get the chance to _say_ goodbye to. Grief, Mavic, is nothing but love with nowhere to go. Love will consume you, you’ll discover when you’re older. Grief will do the same. Love will lift you up and grief will pull you down. That’s why we carve totems. To give that type of love somewhere to go, somewhere to live.”

Mavic sniffed and wiped his eyes, still crying but not as hard. “Won’t... won’t I love them anymore if I make the totems?”

“You’ll always love them. Always.” Desolas promised and Mavic heard the truth in his tones and for the first time realized that Desolas’ parents must be gone too if he was raising Saren. “You’ll always grieve them too. It doesn’t go away, it only gets less heavy.”

“I don’t... I dunno how to carve.” He mumbled and wiped his eyes again.

Desolas opened the box and showed him several tools inside it, old but with sharp edges. “I do. I’ll teach you.” 


	12. Day 12: Drip

Terminus, Altakiril, recent past: 2187

“Crassus!” Mav screamed, struggling wildly in Nival’s grip, watching aghast as the door slammed shut and the _boom_ from the grenade shook the building around them. He swung his elbow back sharply, trying to dislodge Nival, hurt him, anything to get free.

It was a blur of movement and pain, struck across the face, Mav spit out blood and went at Nival with his teeth bared. He hadn’t wanted it to come to this, he’d wanted to talk the rogue agent into surrender. Or he had before the other man had gone all crazy on them. Ranting about Spirits and death and sentient Geth and pain. Mav was gonna show him some fuckin’ pain for the attack on his partner, for Tethys’ murder...

Mav didn’t know what it was that cracked his armor open like the shell of an egg. All he knew was that Nival had slammed it against his chest plate and alarms had blared blindingly loud in his ear piece. For the second it had taken the rogue agent to overpower him again, Mav had been overwhelmed by the noise and shock of it all. And once Nival got him on that table, it had been all over. Bare, sharpened talons had torn him open, the flare of pain indescribable and despite training to otherwise, Mav had lost himself to it. He couldn’t even remember all Nival had raved about then as he’d rooted through his insides, giving up after what seemed an eternity and leaving him there to die.

He was bleeding out slowly but surely, his blood flowing from him and dripping onto the floor to pool there. Mav knew it wouldn’t take long and he knew there was nothing he could do. Even if he could will his limbs to move, a stimulant injector to numb the pain would only speed his heart rate. And that steady drip at the edge of his hearing would then be equivalent to turning a faucet on full. Mav wasn’t in any hurry to meet his end. He could linger.

Maybe... maybe the grenade Nival had thrown at Crassus hadn’t killed the giant. Maybe his partner had survived and would save him. Mav whimpered at a surge of agony that had him writhing on the table. It wasn’t likely. Spirits, he’d gotten Crassus killed, hadn’t he? He’d just wanted to give Nival a chance to explain himself. He was Blackwatch too, he’d deserved that much...

Mav struggled to take a breath and oh, fuck that hurt. He should just... he should just relax. This dying thing wouldn’t hurt as much if he just relaxed into it. He was getting cold and that told him it would be over soon. Mav hoped he saw his parents this time. Or Ailuros... He’d like to see Ailuros again... Not long now.

“Mav!”

He smiled softly at the big guy’s voice. He’d survived. Good. Mav hadn’t really wanted to die with that on his conscience. 

“Mav...” A hand touched his face with utmost gentleness. “Spirits guide you home.”

“Not just yet, big guy.” Mav tried to grin but wasn’t sure he managed it, blinking up at his partner. Fuck was he ever relieved to see the giant of a turian. One of his last few friends, his guiding Spirit made flesh. Crassus wouldn’t let him die and knowing that, Mav relaxed. 


	13. Day 13: Grow

Cipritine, Palaven: 2164

Mavic tossed his backpack to the floor and flopped face down on the couch next to Desolas with a groan.

“Long day?” The General asked without looking up from his datapad, his tones lightly teasing. This wasn’t abnormal behavior for Mavic, to come home from school and flop onto the first stable surface.

“We had the psychical thing they give you before boot.” He said into the cushions.

“I’d forgotten that was today.” Desolas said, glancing at him. “You passed, I trust?”

“O’course I did.” Mavic said, lifting his head. “But they scanned me, yeah? And dad... I’m not growin’ anymore. They said aside from buildin’ muscle, I’m not gonna get any bigger.” 

“You’ll get bigger as you build muscle.” Desolas said, setting the datapad aside to give the boy his full attention.

“But I won’t get any _taller_ ,” Mavic groaned and rolled onto his back to run his hands over his fringe. “I’m gonna be teenager sized forever. How many like... legendary soldiers you know aren’t even six feet tall?”

He had to fight not to quirk his mandibles. “Neither your mother or your father were that tall. In fact, it seems to me, that most Carthaan born turians are on the short side.”

“I’m not _on_ the short side, dad, I _am_ short. I’m always gonna be short.” He wasn’t touching the comment about his parents with a ten foot pole. Seven years after their deaths, it was too sensitive a subject for him and Mavic knew he could be a little moody even on his best days. “Saren’s already got like a foot on me. Spirits, everyone I know has like a foot on me. It... it sucks.”

Desolas hummed understanding. “You’ll find that your height or lack thereof won’t impede you in any way as you continue to mature.”

“I’m not gonna be able to reach anythin’ ever.” Mavic snorted. “Gonna have to ask folks to hand me down things all the time.”

The General chuckled. “If that’s the worst obstacle you can envision, that’s not so bad.” 

“All my boyfriends will have to pick me up to kiss me.”

“They’ll lean down, I’m sure.” Desolas blinked down at him. “Boyfriends?”

Mavic fluttered his mandibles, realizing what he’d said. “Er... Yeah.” 

The General shifted on the couch. “When did that happen?”

His mandibles fluttered wildly now. “I, er, don’t have one yet. I mean, I ain’t asked him yet.”

“So there’s already a him?” He teased very gently, honestly unsure how to handle this conversation. Saren had thus far shown no inclination to romantic interests. Or knowing his brother, he just didn’t want to talk about it if he had.

“Kinda?” Mavic trilled, rolling about to sit up next to him. “I mean... I like him, y’know? He’s got the nicest eyes and like... the best laugh. But... I dunno if he’s into me, y’know?”

“You’ll ask him and find out. That’s the simplest approach.”

The boy rolled his eyes. “I wish it was that simple.” He said. “We don’t... run in the same crowd, y’know? I mean, sorta. We’ve got friends in common, yeah? But we’re not really friends.”

Desolas nodded, he understood that to an extent. “It doesn’t have to be awkward.”

“Teenager.” Mavic said dryly and pointed to himself. “Everythin’s awkward.”

The General chuckled again. “That’s just part of growing up.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So funny story, when I was about Mav’s age, I realized I had stopped growing too. Like I literally went to the doctor and was like “All my friends are starting to look more grown up and I still look like a kid what’s going on?!” Turns out, my growth plates had closed at around 12 yrs old and I got cheated in the genetic lottery. My parents are tall, my siblings, grandparents, hell one of my kids is very nearly taller than me. I stopped growing when I reached 4′10″. While Mav made it to my dream height of 5′7″, he’s from a species that ranges anywhere between 6′ and 8′ feet tall. I feel his pain lol


	14. Day 14: Concern

(Once again, Velox and Dius belong to [@turianspeedjunkie](https://turianspeedjunkie.tumblr.com/) and I’m just borrowing them with their permission.)

Terminus, Dius’ ship, recent past: 2187

Mav didn’t ever get to cuddle with someone as much as he wanted to. Ailuros would let him, sure, and Baast sometimes, but still... Yeah, he didn’t get to linger with a lover much at all. And contrary to what Velox might think, a few hours tangled together with naked heavy petting, more than a few orgasms and breathless kisses did make them lovers even if it wasn’t _actual_ sex. It was still sexual and therefore, lovers. Like Mav didn’t already have a fair few of them.

The boy was curled against his side, head on his chest and an arm over his waist, resting his eyes for a moment. Mav was too, purring low key and petting up and down Velox’s back, just enjoying the closeness. Fuck, he couldn’t believe they’d officially met for the first time today and were already curled in bed together. Well, curled together on a tiny cot crammed into the corner of the cockpit. With the blast door down and pass-coded to Velox, Dius and his two lieutenants only on a ship full of mercenaries. A safety precaution.

Spirits, Mav hated the Terminus. Lawless space. Or rather the only law being survival of the fittest and most ruthless and cruel. Velox with his Hierarchy color and gentle nature didn’t belong out here. Locked into the cockpit for his safety and crawling through tiny maintenance hallways to avoid Dius’ crew. To avoid what they’d do to him... what Mav was sure had already been at least attempted...

He pet along the boy’s fringe, soothed himself with touch and closeness. Spirits, how did they just _click_? Sure, they’d been talking over comms for months now every time their ships passed, but ... Yeah, they clicked and... and Mav wanted to protect him.

He sat up a little, looking down at the boy’s sleeping face... And opened his omnitool. Years dabbling in just about every field of engineering had given him a whole host of programs on the thing. Several of which could be installed remotely due to the nature of his work alone. Velox, he was sure, could make use of a personal design. Mav hacked the boy’s omnitool and downloaded the defense program to it. He’d tell Velox later, before he left, how to use it to protect himself. 


	15. Day 15: Myth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of world building @turianspeedjunkie and I did a few years ago to flesh out turian Spiritual beliefs in terms of folktales and myths. So we ran with an idea of a Spirit that couldn’t let go, that warped and corrupted, that was angry and we gave it a name. It’s stuck with me. Then it hit me, similar folklore from nearby and far off regions essentially told the same stories with a few tweaks. How many versions are there of the “woman in white?” Variation lends credence, credibility and that spook factor that maybe, just maybe, the story isn’t made up. This takes place the night before Relay 314 occurred and the turians and humans went to war.

Virim Farmstead, Carthaan: 2157

“Dad,” Mavic whined from the backseat of the car, his eyes caught by the window and night time swirling snow. And something out there. He was sure he’d seen something... “Dad,”

“Mavi boy, I’m tryin’ to focus on the road here.” His father spared him a glance in the rear-view mirror. “You okay? Or you need me to pull over so you can ick?”

“I don’t need to ick.” He told his dad, mandibles fluttering guiltily. He’d called his dad from a friend’s house a little while ago but he wasn’t sick, he felt all weird, but Mavic was sure he wasn’t sick. There was just something making his plating crawl and he’d wanted to go home. He’d felt this need to be safe and home was safe. The boy couldn’t explain it any better than that. 

“Let me know if you do,” Dad said. “We’re almost home but if you can’t make it, try to warn me, yeah?” 

“Okay,” Mavic mumbled, sitting back in the seat, trying not to look out the window again. But he did and he was sure- He whined and sank down against the door.

“Talk to me, boy, what’s goin’ on?” 

“There’s somethin’ outside the car, dad.”

He could see his father checking all the mirrors and it made him feel a tiny bit better that dad believed him enough to check. “I see a lotta snow,” He said. “Could be some critters scramblin’ for a place to hole up for the night.”

“It’s not a critter,” Mavic said. 

Dad inclined his head and took the turn off to their road. “What’s it look like then?”

Mavic peeked out the window again, looking through the tree and falling snow, and it was hard to see in all that, but he was sure- “Big and black like smoke and its eyes are glowing-”

“Mavi,” Dad said in a chiding tone that made him sink against the door again. “Wanderers aren’t real. It’s just scary stories we tell kids to make ‘em behave and you’re gettin’ too old for that. And you behave fine.”

“They are real!” He trilled. “Everybody says they are. Even like... soldiers and C-Sec and stuff... Spectres too.”

“Soldier’s stories and lotta reason for them, trust me.” Dad said firmly. “Now it’s a right scary story, I’ll give you that, but it is only a story.”

Mavic took a tiny peak out the window and he couldn’t see anything this time but for trees and snow. “How you know?”

Dad tapped his fingers on the wheel. “Cuz I was a soldier too, Mavi boy.” He said. “Reserves now, your momma and me, y’know that. We’ve been just ‘bout everywhere in the galaxy before we came home to have you. I’ve never seen a Wanderer or known anybody that seen one.”

“Just... just cuz you ain’t don’t mean anythin’.” Mavic trilled.

He saw their driveway finally and felt the car slow and stop. “No, I reckon maybe it doesn’t.” Dad said after a moment. “But Mavi boy, I promise you, there’s no Wanderers here on Carthaan and certainly nowhere near our home.”

Mavic unbuckled and slid out of the seat, pulling his coat tight around himself. “I... I just got scared, dad, I dunno why.” He mumbled very softly. “I just wanted to come home.”

“That’s okay,” Dad put a hand on his shoulder and helped him through the bit of snow that had gathered. “You can always come home if you need to.” 

Mavic peaked over his shoulder into the woods surround their house. All he could see was snowy darkness but he knew there was something out there, he could feel it in his Spirit.


	16. Day 16: Hand

Terminus, recent past: 2187

The big guy had some huge fuckin’ hands. As big as Mav’s head huge. But hell all of Crassus was huge. Damn near eight feet tall and about half as wide through the shoulders and probably a solid three hundred pounds of muscle. Sparring with him the other night had been an absolute nightmare. The giant was just _stronger_ , never mind the four or so times Mav’s own body mass. It had been a long time since he’d had anyone toss him around like a toy like Crassus did.

And fuck, the big guy could be down right _hot_ when he got annoyed and gave those scathing glares that made him look all dangerous and deadly. It was really too bad he had a self loathing streak that Mav just didn’t find appealing at all. Crassus was certainly competent in the field, if his dossier hadn’t already proven that, the few missions they’d run together had. Personally though... The big guy just wasn’t any fun.

Mav had already tried to bring him out from behind that professional wall but Crassus resisted every time. They didn’t talk about family or friends, likes or dreams or any of that shit that helped you build friendships or whatever. The big guy shut him down hard any time Mav tried to bring any of that up. O’course, that might just be Mav’s approach to it all. The big guy reminded him a little of Saren and he did really like to needle the shit out of his brother at every opportunity. He just couldn’t resist doing the same to Crassus.

Like now. Leaning against the table on his hands and watching the big guy take apart and clean his rifle. All the components looking like toddler’s toys in his giant hands. Hell, he barely fit on the chair and even sitting he was about a foot and a half taller than Mav. Long minutes passed with him standing just at the edge of Crassus’ space bubble and waiting to be noticed. He knew the big guy had noticed him already, but how long until he got annoyed with him just standing there? 

“What?” He asked and didn’t bother to look at him. 

Mav tapped his talons on the table, taking his time to speak now that the big guy was done ignoring him. “I was wonderin’ if you could snap the stock in your hands.”

Crassus did look up at him, the long barrel and a rag in his hands, head tilted. “Why would I want to?”

“I dunno. Could you?”

“Not easily.” The big guy said after a moment. “But I could.”

Mav flashed him a toothy grin. “That’s awesome.” 


	17. Day 17: Shelter

Cipritine, Palaven: 2157

“Are you mad at me?” Mavic picked at his talons in his lap and took careful glances as Saren. He could just see his legs through the open flap of hanging blankets that the other boy was trying to tie together over a few chairs borrowed from the kitchen. It was storming today and every time lightning struck, Saren’s biotics sparked. Mavic had quickly gotten used to the smell of eezo but he hadn’t missed how everyone but him and Desolas gave the other boy a lot of space.

“If I was mad at you, I wouldn’t be making you a blanket fort.” The boy told him.

“You’re just really quiet so I thought you was mad.”

“Were. And I’m not mad.” Saren said again and crawled inside their blanket fort with him, sitting cross-legged. “Can I hold the lantern?”

Mavic handed it over. “Momma makes me blanket forts when the weather’s all bad too.” He shared.

“Made.” The other boy said.

Mavic lowered his head and hunched his shoulders. Made. Momma and dad were gone now... That was why he was here with Saren and... and Desolas had been there with his parents but he was back now... Mavic put his head down on his knees and starting sobbing.

“I’m sorry,” Saren sighed. “The right word is made. You have to use the right words.”

“I don’t care ‘bout words.” Mavic snapped at him. The other boy was always so _proper_. “You’re mean.”

“You’re a baby.” Saren shot back and Mavic wiped furiously at his eyes. “My parents are gone too and I don’t cry all the time like you do.”

“I miss them.” He whined, still wiping at his eyes but the tears just wouldn’t stop, he knew he was smearing his orange markings all over his face but he didn’t care. “Don’t you miss yours?”

“I can’t miss what I don’t remember.” Saren said simply, his mandibles drawing in tightly.

“You just don’t have a Spirit cuz you’re biotic and that’s why you’re so mean.”

It was the wrong thing to say, Mavic found out as Saren’s biotics began glowing around him and his pale eyes narrowed. He was quicker though and as the other boy reached to hit him, Mavic dove into bite him. Saren fell back against one of the chairs with a yell and the blanket fort fell apart. After that it was screaming and yelling from the both of them. Mavic managed to bite him a few more times and Saren got in a few bites and hits of his own before Desolas came to see what all the noise was about. Mavic found himself dragged out of the fort with one of the blankets still wrapped around him and Desolas looking cross. Saren, beside him, looked ready to explode.

“I don’t care how mad or frustrated you get with each other,” The General said, pointing a finger at Mavic. “You _don’t_ bite each other. And you _don’t_ attack each other.” He pointed a finger at Saren. “If you can’t work it out with your words, you need to walk away until you can.”

“Mavic doesn’t know his words. He can’t even say the ones he does know right.” Saren huffed.

“Mavic isn’t Palavenian, he’s Carthaanian. He knows his words, Saren, he only says them differently from us.” Desolas explained.

“I wish you’d take him back to Carthaan!” Saren snarled.

Mavic made a hurt sound in the back of his throat and shrank a little where he stood. When he’d come to Palaven at the start of the war, he and Saren had made such fast friends and now the other boy didn’t want him here. Desolas pulled at his shoulders and hugged him tightly even as he struggled, just wanting to go hide somewhere.

“That’s enough.” Desolas let out a long sigh. “I wanted to explain this to the both of you in turn... He’s staying with us, Saren. I made an oath to his parents on Shanxi and I won’t break it.”

Mavic stiffed and tried to pull back out of the hug again just so he could look up at Desolas. “I’m... I’m stayin?”

“You are.” He nodded. “I’m going to adopt you. I promised your parents I would shelter you and raise you in their stead, and I’m giving you the same oath, Mavic. From this day forward, you’re family.” 

“I don’t want a brother.” Saren snarled again and stomped his foot with a crackle of biotics.

Desolas pinned him with a look and those sparks died away, his mandibles hiking up. “I’ll remind you _I’m_ your brother and your guardian, Saren.” He said somewhat lowly. “And that you’re behaving poorly.”

“...I want a brother.” Mavic squeaked, looking back and forth between them, but mostly at Saren. “I’m sorry for bitin’ you and sayin’ bad stuff to you even if you did it first. And... and I wanna stay here. If you made my parents a promise you have to keep it, that’s the rules.”

Desolas inclined his head. “Promises must be kept.”

Saren took a long and deep breath. “I’m sorry too and I forgive you.”

“But no more biting or hitting each other.” Desolas told them in no uncertain terms. “Go clean yourselves up. I’ll have the fort back together for you when you’re done. And Mavic?”

The boy looked up at him, head tilted in question.

“It’s going to be okay.” 


	18. Day 18: Vintage

Somewhere in Alliance Space: 2180

Typically, when a human asked him if he wanted to see something cool, Mav went in the other direction. Because humans and turians had vastly different definitions on what was cool. But this human had the right idea. Mav whistled through his teeth.

“I know right?” The human grinned at him.

“Where’d you find that?”

“We were moving cargo for some like archaeology people and this thing fell outta one of the boxes.”

Mav flicked his mandibles. “So you decided to keep it, yeah?”

The human shrugged. “We weren’t getting paid enough anyway. And you don’t see pieces like this anymore outside of old ass vids and in museums and shit. It’s not just vintage, it’s damned ancient.”

“A literal piece of history.” He nodded his head a few times like he agreed with the human but there was no way it was anything more than a faithful replica. “Does it work, you think?”

Another shrug, this one more exaggerated. “I mean I guess it could still work.” He said. “But there weren’t any bullets in the box and it would obviously need the right size bullet. And gunpowder. Wherever the hell you find that now.”

Mav nodded again. “It’s a shame. I’d like to try it out.”

The human gave him a big smile. “I knew it when I saw you. The way you wear your gun low off your hip like that, the old cowboys of the west used to wear them that way. Like Wyatt Earp or Doc Holliday. You got that kinda air about you.” 

“Cowboys?” Mav tilted his head. The names meant nothing to him.

“They were lawmen sometimes and sometimes they were outlaws.” The human explained. “It’s a real interesting time in history, you should look it up if you get the chance. This here they called the Peacemaker but it’s actually an 1873 Colt single action revolver.”

“I’m likin’ Peacemaker a lil’ more than that mouthful.” He drawled, still grinning. Oh but it was a beautiful gun.

The human barked a laugh. “Yeah, it’s gotta a better ring to it, that’s for sure. So you wanna buy it or what?”

Mav barked a laugh of his own but of course that was the whole point of the human drawing his attention like he did. Trying to sell him something. “How much we talkin’?”

The human named a steep price and Mav hissed through his teeth. “Hey now, it’s a piece of history even if it might be a replica of the real deal.”

“Your history, not mine.” Mav said, his mandibles slanted. “Maybe you ought to sell it back to those archaeology folks?” The human gave him a look that Mav was sure was exasperation. He lifted his shoulders high in a shrug and let them fall. “That’s why we don’t steal things that fall off trucks.”


	19. Day 19: Fruit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short entry today b/c I'm sick and I couldn't think of anything detailed for this one.

Early Blackwatch years: 2174

It was a small melon cut into thick slices and dipped in sugar, touched for a few seconds with a bit of direct heat on the grill. That was all and it was one of the best pieces of fruit Mav had ever had the pleasure of eating. His little trill of joy had surprised the hell out of his unit-mates and he’d never hear the end of their teasing now. But how to explain to them the memories the flavor of that little melon slice had awoken? A feeling of cool air, his real father’s rolling laugh... for just a moment a clear memory of his face... All from the flavor of a candied melon.


	20. Day 20: Glow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still sick (I don't have the thing, i was on new medicine and it didn't agree with me) and I can't tell for the life of me if this one is good or not. It's one I'd planned from the start but now IDK, I'm sick and I feel bad overall lol. Also, I'm gonna take a few day's break but I'll be back with the days I missed and that day's prompt too.

Edge of Virim Farmstead land, Carthaan: 2156

Mavic tapped a beat with his talons on his knees, trilling in the back of his throat but it was hard not to be excited. Dad had built this up so much, telling him stories of the Spirit lights at bed time for as long as he could remember and now he was finally going to get to see them.

“You warm ‘nough, Mavi boy?” Dad pulled out another big sweater from the backpack he’d brought with them. “You can have this one if you need it.”

Mavic had dunked his chin down into the collar of his own sweater, breathing in big puffs to warm his face. “I’m not that cold,” The boy said.

“You might be once the sun sets,” Dad draped the sweater across his shoulders anyway, patting Mavic’s fringe to his little laugh.

“Are we gonna be here long before the Spirit lights happen?”

Dad shook his head. “Nah, it happens right as the sun sets. Then we’ll just stay as long as you want.”

Mavic tapped his talons again. “So what’s gonna happen? Exactly I mean.”

“Just watch, Mavi boy.” Dad said with one of his warm, rolling laughs and Mavic leaned against his side and waited. 

He didn’t wait long. The sun set, turning the sky as red and orange as fire before it burned out and the sky was dark enough to see stars for miles. But as beautiful as they were, they were nothing compared to the glowing water in front of them. The sink hole, locally called the Pit, was full of miles deep water that hadn’t been explored. Full of microscopic creatures and lichen and moss that under the right conditions, glowed. The light rising from the unseen bottom of the pit until it sat along the surface of the water.

Mavic gasped at the sight. He’d heard the stories forever, but to see it!

“Carthaan’s special, Mavi boy.” Dad said next to him. “When the Spirits and their Titans, the first turians, built our homeworld, they left a lil’ of themselves behind in places like the Pit.”

Mavic was only half listening, inching closer to the edge of the sink hole until he felt himself tugged back by his shirt. “I just wanna touch it.”

Dad locked his hand around one of his arms and nodded his head. The water was surprisingly warm and for just a moment after Mavic took his hand back, he could still see the glow of the Spirits on his fingers. 


	21. Day 21: Laugh

Spec Ops training, Illium: 2173

Saren was giving him that look again. The one with his angled mandibles pulled in tight to the line of his jaw and his brows lowered over those icy eyes. Disapproval, that was the look, and Mav knew it well. But it didn’t have the same effect when his sort of brother was covered in goo. Mav burst out laughing again.

“What?” He got out when the giggles stopped and he could finally catch his breath. “Look, okay, I didn’t know that crackin’ the seal of it was gonna douse us both in slime.” He poked the case in question with a foot, tipping it over and watching the slime ooze slowly across the floor. “What even is this shit?”

Saren wiped as much of the goo from himself as he could, still giving Mav that look.

“You get some in your mouth or somethin’?” He teased, grinning with his crooked mandible slanted low. His sort of brother hated that grin, he knew, and that was precisely why he did it. “What’s it taste like?”

The bigger turian spat on the ground pointedly and Mavic doubled over laughing again.


	22. Day 22: Alone

Cipritine, Palaven: 2168

A night completely to himself… Spirits, Mavic hadn’t had that for _months_. He’d been sleeping in the barracks on base or with his unit-mates when they camped out in the field. He’d even had to share a hotel room before and the last time he’d come home for a weekend, both Saren and Desolas had been home too. This time though they were gone for one of Saren’s Cabal things and Mavic was actually glad. They’d be back by tomorrow, sure, but for one night he could be alone. 

He showered, dressed in some of his old but comfy pj’s and then parked himself on the couch with some desperately missed junk food. For a few hours, Mavic was content with his own company and the sound of the TV on some random station. But then he wandered toward his brother’s room, hoping to talk to him before he remembered Saren was gone for the night and Desolas was too. Who knew you could spend so much time around people that you’d forget how to be alone? Mavic felt foolish, quirking his mandibles at himself as he flopped onto the couch again. He guessed he’d just find something to watch until he fell asleep.


	23. Day 23: Revenge, Or Massacre at the Brothel part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Here’s the second part I promised. Taking place in my fic Enemies and Allies but from Mav’s POV.)

The Terminus, recent past: 2187

They were expecting him this time. They’d even barricaded the door into the lounge room of the brothel. Of course, taking shots through it without knowing his position had only weakened the thing and when Mav slammed his shoulder against it with a little help from his kinetic barrier detonating, it crumpled like a tin can. He didn’t let the merc just inside the door get the drop on him, slashing with his knife and spitting out the spray of blood that struck him. 

The merc leader was sitting at a table, a meal in front of him and one of the brothel’s _employees_ dead by his feet. Mav flared his mandibles and snarled lowly and _moved_. On the attack before the remaining mercs could do anything to stop him or protect themselves. Like every enemy he’d encountered on his way to the lounge, Mav left them where they fell, walking brazenly through the mess he’d left like all the viscera wasn’t there.

The merc leader hadn’t moved from the table but to push his blood splatted plate away. “You’ve ruined my meal,” He said.

Mav wiped his knife off on a table cloth and then his hands one at a time. “Can’t say I care much.” He drawled. “Dare say I’m gonna ruin a lot more before I leave.”

“You won’t be leaving.” The leader said, hands reaching for a weapon.

“You sure?” He laughed, his weapon already in his hand and then sailing through the air to sink deep into the leader’s shoulder to a high scream. “Just you left, fucker, and I ain’t even breathin’ hard.”

The merc leader slung a bunch of expletives and slurs his way, reaching for the wound and his gun. Mav closed the distance in a heartbeat and knocked the gun away. Punched him in the face and then it was a scramble for the upper hand. Punches, kicks, strikes with his knife and his talons, blood and curses and bullets flying. How long it went on, Mav didn’t know, he lost himself to the rage that had boiled over. Everything blurring and falling away but for the feeling of his fist hitting flesh, his knife tearing it... Suddenly there was movement behind him and he spun around, letting one of his knives fly-

“Mav!”

-and missed Crassus by millimeters. Mav turned back to the merc leader and punched him again and again.

“Mav,” The big guy stood just behind him now, voice low and cautious. “Mav, you can stop. He’s dead.”

He’d pulled back for another hit, his grip on his last knife so slick he simply couldn’t hold it anymore. Mav lowered his arm and got to his feet. “Fuckers were waitin’ for me,” He told the big guy, rolling stiffness out of his shoulders. Spirits but he was tired. “Had no idea who I was though.”

Crassus’ mandibles jerked in as Mav turned to face him. “I’d say they probably weren’t expecting this level of… retaliation.” He said tightly, disapproval buried deep in his voice but there. “Are you hurt at all?”

“Probably,” Mav muttered. “C’mon, anyone left will be down the wing behind the bar and I haven’t seen Ailuros yet at all. I need to make sure he’s okay.”

Crassus grabbed him before he’d taken two steps and insisted on wiping his face with a table cloth. Mav saw how it almost dripped fluid when he was done but that didn’t matter. He needed to find Ailuros. 


	24. Day 24: Teeth

Virim Farmstead, Carthaan: 2151

“Whatchu got in your mouth, Mavi boy?” Orrick knelt down in front of the toddler, head tilted and tapped the boy’s nose with a carefully dulled talon. “C’mon, open.”

The little boy trilled and chirped, opening his mouth wide and showing the very tiny points of his first baby teeth.

“Lookit that!” He grinned wide, showing his own pointed teeth to the toddler, clicking them together. “Got some chompers of your own now, yeah?”

Mavic opened and closed his mouth together too, trying to snap his teeth the same way but they were still too small. He let out a few chirps and reached for pick-ups. Orrick scooped him right up and hugged him close. Almost immediately he felt those little teeth start nibbling on his shoulder.

“I reckon now your momma and I gotta worry ‘bout you chewin’ on everythin’.” He sighed, patting the boy’s fringe but letting him nibble. “Let’s give her a call, Mavi boy, and ask her to bring you home a few teethin’ toys before you get it in your head to go after the furniture.” 


	25. Day 25: Flower

Virim Farmstead, Carthaan: 2156

Carthaan winters didn’t really get that cold compared to some places like Noveria or the other colonies. It did get cold enough to produce snow for a few months a year and Mavic loved snow. He loved playing it, making snowballs or snowmen or sledging or just laying in it and wiggling his arms and legs about. It was a little harder to play tag with his friends in the snow but they’d come up with ways to fix that. His parents, he was sure, didn’t really like snow the same way. Dad always complained about shoveling every time he had to and Mom often whined about the cold and cost of heating. But Dad was just as willing to get out and play with him and Mavic knew his Mom _loved_ the winter flowers.

Mavic searched the yard for them now, going all around the house and peaking into the usual areas beside or under the porch with no luck. It might be a little early in the season for them but he’d seen them at the store before the first frost even happened so _some_ of them must grow early. He just wanted to find a few of them.

The best thing about winter and snow, Mavic thought, was that he could venture into the woods behind his house and then just follow his footprints back if he happened to get lost. Dad had told him to do that. Step firmly and leave a trail when exploring because anything could happen and you should always be able to find your way home. Dad was so smart but he’d been a combat engineer back before Mavic was born and they were all smart like Dad. He hoped he managed to get as smart some day...

Mavic had found himself nearing the Pit at the edge of his family’s property and that was a little too far from home. Further than he was really allowed to wander. Crap, he’d have to go home empty handed and then tell Mom just how far he’d-

“Oh!”

He’d spotted a flower! Just at the edge of the Pit and growing to face the water. Mavic darted over, sliding a little in the snow as he dropped to his knees. Was it big enough? Spirits, he hoped so. He didn’t want to pick it before it was grown up all the way.

....

“Momma!” The front door banged open with her son’s yell, slammed the wall and then slammed closed again. Desya could hear him kicking off his boots as they smacked the wall too. “Momma!”

“I’m in the kitchen, baby!”

And running through the house to the kitchen until he found her. He still had about half his snow gear on- the pants and a hat- but he’d lost his coat and gloves somewhere along the way. His little face was flushed but he was smiling widely.

“What’d’ya need, Mavi?” She asked and ignored all the datapads spread out on the table for a moment.

“I gotcha somethin’,” He smiled wider and now Desya saw that he was hiding one hand before his back.

“If it’s ‘nother critter, I want you to turn ‘round and march it right back outside.” It wouldn’t be the first time and Orrick had like to never got the last one out of the house.

“Not a critter,” The boy promised, and somehow, he smiled even wider and prouder. “It’s a present.”

“A present?” Desya flicked her mandibles in question.

“Uhuh. I went explorin’ down by the Pit and found it for you, Momma.” 

And before Desya could scold him for wandering so far from their yard, Mavic pulled his hand from behind his back and brandished the little flower he’d found. Not much bigger than his hand, its long and skinny petals were translucent and reflecting the light of the kitchen, seeming to shimmer between colors as it did. Desya knew they weren’t easy to spot in the wild and no wonder Mavic had been outside since sunup, it had probably taken him that long to find one.

“Oh, sweet baby, thank you.”

Mavic gave her the flower with his big smile still in place and a hug, too. “You’re welcome, Momma, I know they’re your favorite.”

“They are my favorite.” She hugged her little boy back, nice and tight and with love. How’d she get so lucky to have such a sweet and thoughtful child? Orrick must’ve had something to do with it, she was sure. “Spirits! You’re near to frozen! Let’s put the flower in a vase and get you in a warm bath.” 


	26. Day 26: Costume

Inner Hierarchy Space: 2186

Mav stood at ease on the other side of his Commander’s desk, resting on one foot with his head angled just so to appear respectful. He didn’t like the man much, but rank and all... yeah. He could fake some respect for a bit. He could even manage not to tap his foot impatiently as he was blatantly ignored for going on ten minutes now. He had more important shit to do than stand here and wait for Spirits’ sake.

The Commander finally looked up at him. “I’ve new orders for you.”

“Yes, Sir?” New orders? Fuck. He was never going to make it back to Palaven at this rate. He hadn’t had any semblance of leave in months and he was getting _tired_ and that had the potential to be dangerous for a Blackwatch Operative.

“You’re heading to the Terminus, Virim.” His CO said and pushed a datapad forward across his desk. “All the details are there. Read it thoroughly. You’ll be given a ship and any supplies you should need as well as the funds to procure them yourself.”

Mav inched the datapad closer with a talon, turned it on and scanned through. “You’re sendin’ me after slavers.” He said, distaste in every tone. “In an area where we ain’t got jurisdiction.”

“It’s an undercover assignment.” The CO’s mandibles flared sharply for his tones. “You’ll need to wash your colors off before you make contact with our other Operatives.”

“ _Wash my colors off_?!” Mav stared at him, his own mandibles flared and his teeth showing. “I ain’t washin’ my colors off.”

“Were you from some other colony, I wouldn’t suggest it, but Carthaan’s colors are... distinct.” The CO said tightly, glaring at him for the outburst. “Going barefaced for a few months won’t do any more damage to your reputation that you can’t do just by being yourself, Operative Virim.”

It wasn’t like his CO was wrong about that. Carthaan’s orange markings were distinct and vibrant and on an undercover assignment, he’d be outed in no time for them alone. But the dig at his personality honestly stung.

“I don’t ‘xactly _sound_ like I could be from an’where else,” Mav said tightly and with a little extra emphasis on his accent. “Even if I worked at it, I sound Carthaanian.”

His CO thinned his mandibles along the line of his jaw again. “I’m sure you’ll come up with some excuse for the way you sound.” He said. “You’ll pose as a mercenary, Operative Virim.”

“I’d rather dress up like a pyjack and dance in front of some starvin’ varren.” Mav muttered. Wash off his color and pretend to be a barefaced merc? What a fuckin’ insult.

“Get your affairs in order, Virim. You leave in forty-eight hours.” The CO said in a tone that allowed no more backtalk. “Dismissed.” 


	27. Day 27: Midnight

Cipritine, Palaven: 2165

“Saren,” Mavic whisper-yelled into the dark of his sort-of-brother’s room. “Saren, you awake?”

For a second, Saren’s omnitool lighting up from across the room blinded him completely. “Spirits Mavic, it’s midnight. What do you want?”

Mavic fidgeted in the doorway. “I er... I had a... I can’t sleep.” He said, mandibles fluttering wildly. He felt so childish, he was fifteen for Spirits’ sake! “I had a bad dream.”

“What does that have to do with me?” His brother asked as he shut his omnitool off and the room was blessedly dark again.

“I er...” His vision swam with spots. “I was wonderin’ if... if I could sleep in your bed with you.”

Saren was quiet.

“I didn’t wanna wake dad,” Mavic continued, still fidgeting. “He’s been so busy lately, y’know? And he’s gotta be so tired. And... and I feel safe with you so...I brought my own blanket with me.”

His sort-of-brother let out a long sigh. “You could just sleep on the couch.”

“I don’t wanna,” He murmured, lowering his head. Spirits, they weren’t children anymore and Saren had always been so serious a child, so reserved and proper and he probably didn’t have nightmares, and why had Mavic thought he’d be understanding about this? “Please, Saren? My heart’s still racin’.”

Saren sighed again. “Fine.” He grumbled. “But you have to let me sleep even if you still can’t.”

“I will,” Mavic promised, finding his way in the dark to Saren’s bed and feeling about for a spot to lie down. When he did, he curled close to his sort-of-brother and pulled his blanket up to his chin. “Thanks.”

“Quiet. I’m tired too, Mavic.” 

“Uhuh, sorry.”

It was a few moments of carefully wiggling about after that, the both of them trying to get comfortable again. Mavic ended up with his face close to Saren’s on the pillow, his arm thrown over him and his nose filled with the scent of his brother. Eezo and soap and a smell that was just Saren’s own, familiar and comforting. Mavic filled his lungs with it over and over until he fell back to sleep, forgetting all about the nightmare of losing the family that had taken him in. It had only been a bad dream and he was safe from it next to his brother.


	28. Day 28: Treat

Cipritine, Palaven: 2159

“Have you decided what you’d like for lunch?” Desolas asked as they waited at the crosswalk.

“Not really,” Mavic held his hand loosely and awkwardly with his right one. His dominant one was in a cast and resting in a sling across his chest, his mandible secured with medical tape to his jaw, too. The fall from the tree yesterday had broken them both. Saren insisted it was an accident but he still hadn’t got to come along on the adventure. 

“We’ll keep looking then.” The General said and they crossed the street together.

Mavic nodded. “Okay,”

Desolas ran a soft hand over his fringe. “You’re very quiet today,” He said. “Are you still sore?”

The boy shrugged. “A lil’, I just don’t have a lot to say though.” He peaked up at Desolas. “...Saren’s not _really_ in trouble, right? He didn’t mean to throw me, I know he didn’t.”

The General flicked his mandibles outward and drew them in. “He should have realized he didn’t have enough control to lift you. You could have been much more seriously hurt, Mavic.”

“I know,” Mavic sighed, feeling both mandibles wanting to flutter but only one of them managed it. The other pulsed with pain. “I did get hurt though, and we won’t do that again. At least not ‘til he’s stronger.”

Desolas inclined his head to that and they stopped briefly for him to look in the windows of one of the shops. Mavic watched people pass them. There were a lot more people here than anywhere on Carthaan and not all of them were turian. It made him a little nervous and he shifted closer to Desolas’ side. The General pet the top of his fringe again and Mavic peaked up at him.

“It’s nearly summer,” He said and pointed to a line of people not far away from them. “The ice cream shop is open.”

Mavic’s mandibles attempted to flutter again. “We haven’t had lunch yet.

“Consider it a treat.” Desolas smiled down at him. 


	29. Day 29: Need

Border of the Turian Hierarchy and Asari Republic: 2184

Pinned down and getting dangerously low on ammo -that is to say _out_ of ammo- when Mav caught the scent of eezo near his position, he expected two things. Either to see his brother magically standing beside him or that one of the asari mercs had swung around to ambush him and he was about to get splattered. He didn’t expect to see another turian in an off-duty Cabal uniform glowing blue as he powered up. And before Mav could ask him what the fuck he thought he was doing unarmored and seemingly unarmed, the Cabal had shot across the hangar and slammed his fist into the ground sending mercs and docked ships toppling like toys. Even Mav was roughly slammed into his cover by the shock wave.

He was struggling to catch his breath again when the Cabal trotted back over to him, mandibles fluttering a little nervously. “Please don’t shoot me, okay?”

Mav rested the gun across his knee. “I’m empty.” He said, he didn’t have the same _issue_ with biotics of his own species that other turians had and he sure as shit wasn’t going to shoot one that had probably just saved his life. But he couldn’t blame the guy being cautious.

The Cabal flashed him a boyishly cute smile. “I’m glad I heard all the noise then. Do you need to arrest anyone or...?”

He couldn’t help but smile back, his crooked mandible flared. “What? Oh, nah. Was just s’pposed to stop the cargo,” He got to his feet and looked down the length of the hangar. “And you did that. Shit, boy. You are... that was real impressive. They did not see you comin’ at all.”

“Yeah, I’m really good at the detonating charge technique.” The Cabal said, scratching at one of his mandibles as he colored all nicely.

Mav couldn’t stop staring at him. All that power and he was maybe in his late twenties... And cute. The Cabal was really cute with his slim mandibles and mist colored eyes and that blush and who cared if he was without colony paint. 

“I’m Mavic.” He blurted, his own mandibles fluttering because he hadn’t gone by his full name in years, it was just Mav or Mayhem but only when he was working classified ops. 

“I’m Septimus. Sept. I mean, everyone calls me Sept.” The Cabal laughed softly and held out his hand. Sparks jumped between their palms as they met. “Spirits, I’m sorry! I can’t really control that happening...”

“I don’t mind.” Mav grinned at him. “My brother’s biotic. I’m used to it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I even kinda like it.”

The Cabal just blushed darker, those slim mandibles fluttering wildly. “Do um, do you need help getting that cargo?”

Mav looked over his shoulder again. The asari mercs still weren’t moving, not that there’d been more than a handful of them left. “I wouldn’t pass it up,” He said. “And then we could get to know each other some. Kinda feelin’ like I need to get to know you. You saved my life after all.”

Sept grinned, mandibles slanted. “Are you flirting with me, mister Blackwatch agent Sir?”

“Y’know I am, Cabal.” Mav laughed and ran a hand over his fringe.

“Cool.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all meet Sept, Mav's future mate ^_^


	30. Day 30: Flight

Cipritine, Palaven: 2215

“Dad! Dad! Dad! I made it!” The boy trilled, all excited and joyful tones, his misty blue eyes bright and wide. “I made it into the Pilot’s Corps! Can you believe it?!”

Mav took the datapad that was shoved into his hands, smiling as he read through the acceptance letter. “O’course I can believe it.” He said. “You ought to be proud.”

“Oh, I’m proud.” Ailuros grinned up at him. “Y’know how hard it is to get in. And the drop-out rate, Spirits. But I won’t drop-out. I’ve been dreaming of this so long! It’s gonna be great!”

He hugged the boy close and kissed the top of his fringe. “You told your pa yet? When they want you to leave for base?”

“I called pa at work. He’s so excited, too, and he’s gonna bring home supper.” The boy grinned, almost as excited for take-out as he was his acceptance into the corps. “Er... ‘bout a week. Enough time to actually graduate from boot and have a day or two of rest. And to like... get stuff in order, y’know?”

Mav nodded. “You thinkin’ of stayin’ on base too?”

Ailuros shook his head. “I will if it’s mandatory for the first year, but it’s really close enough that I can commute. I mean, you still need me to babysit. She’s napping, by the way.”

“Just a few more years, yeah.” He laughed softly. “And only if your hollerin’ didn’t wake her.”

“We’d totally know if I woke her,” Ailuros rolled his eyes.

Mav hugged him again. “I’m so proud of you. Really, Alie, I mean that.”

His son hugged him back tightly. “Thanks, dad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I was going to wait to introduce Mav's children until something I've got planned for November, but the first version I wrote for this prompt was sucky and this version was all I could think about.


	31. Day 31: Reflection

Cipritine, Palaven: 2193

Mav put on the orange colony paint of Carthaan every few days after his shower. It was a routine, one he did without thought and just out of habit. But now he was stuck staring at the mirror when he finished. At the artful line across his nose from the corner of both eyes, a slash of color at the top arch of both mandibles and along the bottom prong to swoop up to just touch his lowest fringe blade too. Bright orange, like fire, like Carthaan’s sunsets, a handful of shades lighter than his eyes and so very distinct on the gunmetal gray of his skin and plating.

Mav looked just like his dad. Orrick. Not Desolas. He was the spitting image, a near carbon copy of his biological father. How had he never noticed before? When he struggled to remember Orrick’s face, why had he never thought to look in the mirror? He had an almost terrifying impulse to wash the paint off again, but it was foolish and irrational and gone as fast as it had come. He looked just like dad...

Fuck, why did that break him? Logically, he must look like at least one of his parents, a combo of both maybe, but he looked just like dad and it had tears springing to his eyes when the shock of the revelation sank in. The fresh paint beneath his eyes ran down his cheeks and he struggled to stop it with a cloth, choking on emotion when he couldn’t.

“Fuck fuck fuck...” The knock on the bathroom door startled him and he knocked over a few things on the sink counter. 

“Mavic?” 

Sept... Sept hadn’t seen him cry before in the several months they’d been dating and the few since they’d moved in together. Mav wasn’t sure he wanted him to, but that was a foolish impulse too. The young biotic already meant so much to him.

“I’m... er, I’m havin’ a moment here.” He said and there must have been some cue in his voice that he hadn’t masked because Sept pushed the bathroom door open and came in.

His mandibles flopped at the sight of him. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s a dumb thing to be cryin’ over.” Mav told him, his mandibles starting to flutter.

“Not if it’s gotten you crying,” Sept told him softly, standing close to him. “Tell me anyway.”

He leaned on the sink and stared at his reflection and at Sept’s just beside him.“I just... I just realized I look exactly like my dad. My real dad. Obviously, right? But... but it’s hard to remember what my folks looked like now and I reckon I wasn’t prepared to figure that out.”

Sept let out a comforting coo, running a hand down his arm. “You wanna call Desolas and talk to him about them?”

It was a sweet offer, really it was, but Mav shook his head. “Nah.”

“Okay.” Sept turned him around and very gently wiped the tears away. “You can talk to me about them if you wanna.”

“I know I can,” He flicked his mandibles, looking up at Sept. He wasn’t that much taller, but just enough and Mav rather liked looking up at him. It gave him an odd feeling of safety. Sept made him feel all kinds of good things, made him feel like he’d found the place he was supposed to be finally when he’d spent years looking for his path without any real direction.

Sept picked up and straightened the things Mav had knocked off the sink and then picked up the little jar of Carthaan orange and held it delicately in his palm. “...I could help you paint the lines back on if you’d like me to?”

Mav blinked at him, a little taken aback. It was a loaded offer from someone that legally couldn’t wear their colony colors because of their biotics. But more than that, it was as close as a declaration of love as you could get without saying those particular words.

The younger man flicked him a careful smile as the silence stretched and Mav realized he’d been staring at him a long time. At that little jar of paint in his hand.

“I love you too,” He blurted.

“I know that,” The biotic laughed, smiling a little wider.

Mav pulled him into a tight hug and nuzzled his throat with a purr. “O’course you do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all for OCtober! I had so much fun, so much fun. Check back November 1st where I'll be filling out another month long daily prompt thing still following Mav and a few other OCs.


End file.
